The Shadow of the Grave Rises
by NoMoreNormalcy
Summary: Overlooking a small, Ustalavian town on a small hill, in the middle of the foreboding lake, stood a tower. Inside, a powerful caster plans to test to see why certain plans go wrong with a nice test run. They have the perfect bait, now they just need to wait for it to be taken. Based on a campaign I'm making for Pathfinder, a DnD rule variant. Rated T for future violence.
1. Prolouge

**AN: Hey! Just so you guys know, I'm really digging the whole FanFic site! I'm in the middle of a fan fiction right now where an OC of mine travels through multiple universes to try to keep them together. A sort of origin story for them. This is going to be a dry run for me, however, as one shots are great for trying things. I'll slowly edit it just to keep it alive on the site, but I'll be sure to keep it saved on my computer just in case I forget. I know how I can get. Anyways, I hope you like this story! Review and let me know if it should stop being a one-shot or if I should just get on with my dimension-hopping OC origin story. Anyhow, here we go!**

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 **I do not own the universe, gods, or known/named locations. However, I do own the majority of NPC's the PC's fight/"befriend." Any and all PC's belong to my friends who created them. All Characters are used with permission.**

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A dark-robed figure stared out across the valley at a small village. The land itself seemed as a giant graveyard and the inhabitants of the many cities dotting the landscape of the country acted nearly as dead or apathetic. The figure shifted their stance and turned around and looked around the top of their tower. Gathered there were other dark figures.

"Sister, I do hope you have a good plan. This town knows nothing of us, especially since we had left decades ago," spoke a middle-aged woman in black-metal armor. Her demonic, skull-like helm reverberated with her voice. It's appearance was nearly as black as night, as if the metal itself were naturally such a color. A slight, unnatural gleam came in view from the slits of her helm. Her armor appeared jagged and sharp, yet in perfect condition. Strapped to her back was a large great axe, made of the same material, seemingly glowing of paradoxical black light.

"Now now, Gravedust, my little sister, all we have to do is follow my plan and everything will be fine." The dark-robed figure chuckled lightly. Their voice gave the impression that they were of a venerable age, yet power seemed to radiate from them. The starlight seemed to shift to grant a better view of them. They wore a dark-ash colored cloak that appeared lightly tattered at the hems over top light-ash colored tunic and slacks. Dark brown leather boots covered her feet and a broach shaped like a large fly with a skull ornamentation on it appeared to keep the whole ensemble together. The mask on her face was a dark gold color that hid her eyes, save for unnatural pinpoints of light. Her hair was long, wispy, and greyed.

"Come on, get on with it. Tell us!" exclaimed an impatient catfolk, his black fur raised in agitation. Underneath is nearly-equally dark clothing chimed a chain shirt; it's light material shining brightly in the starlight. Their yellow eyes pierced the gloom in impatience at their ally, one sharp-clawed paw tapping a small crossbow strapped to the other. He appeared to be more like an anthropomorphic cat than other catfolk.

"Don't get your tail in a bunch, Dar'Jirah. Just remember the plan. You should know that I can't trust those two morons with keeping something this important, quiet," the woman stated quietly, yet sternly, as she pointed to a dwarf wearing some amalgamation of rocks for armor and a man-sized hyena on it's hind legs. The hyena and dwarf alike had dried blood spattering the two of them. The hyena wore armor of an amalgamation of different animal hides. On it's forehead was a very obvious tattoo of a jackal head with three eyes. The teeth in it's maw were stained yellow and the rust brown of blood. The dwarf wore it's dark-brown hair in a mohawk fashion and his beard was unruly and unkempt, maggots dotting it here and there. His teeth were equally stained as they hyena's, yet his teeth were blunt whereas the beast was just the opposite. The hyena-man growled and barked angrily, getting a few 'Yeah, what he said!' from the dwarf.

"Ripmane, Korb," the woman said to the hyena(gnoll) and dwarf respectively, "shut up."

A bit of grumbling occurred, yet they complied. If only temporarily.

"Uh," the gnoll, Ripmane, spoke up again, "what we do, again?" it asked in its broken common.

The robed figure took all her strength not to face-palm and only deadpanned. Harder for them to notice that. She stared and then flatly spoke to the gnoll, "Wait for my signal. I know I'm doing a lot of cliché things right now, but I want to see why so many morons do it. Perhaps it will be entertaining."

The dark knight, Gravedust, groaned. "We aren't going to die again, are we? _Graveshroud?_ "

The robed figure, now known as Graveshroud, turned back around and faced the village again. "Maybe. However, the gnoll might be onto something. Dying makes it fun sometimes," as a wicked grin crossed her face. Yes. Sometimes you need to die before your naive foes realized that you can never be beaten. Only stalled. And this, shall be a little test for her. "I shall send the letters and gather these powerful heroes. Well, not all of them are heroes in the _traditional_ sense. I can't wait to see if they wish to join us, slay us, or try to trick us. It will be a wonderful learning experience for everyone," ending her final word on a grin, hidden by her skull mask now illuminated by the light of the waning gibbous moon, which had finally shown itself from the large cloud that had been lingering over it.

Below them at the base of the tower, along the shores, humanoid shapes lurched back and forth, almost aimlessly.

 _'This might be almost, too fun...'_

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 **AN: And there we have it! Just a small intro to a character I called Graveshroud and her little posse! Graveshroud's a total b*tch, by the way. She was a level 8 necromancy specialized wizard when I played her, opposing enchantment and illusion. Reasons why might come up later. Anyways, for funzies, in the evil campaign I was playing with my friends, I ended up dropping a fiendish great white shark on top of a little boy's birthday cake looking through the window into a restaurant. The shark crit and killed the child in a single bite. It then flopped about for about a minute terrorizing the town before disappearing, party hat stuck in its horns and spines. :3 I am a terrible person when playing her. Feel free to review honestly and fairly! *Constructive* criticism only!**

 **NOTE!: I have created a blind poll so that way I can see if anyone wants me to continue this. I'll only close the poll about three months after enough people have read the little chapter (prologue more like) and maybe a couple of reviews. Don't worry, it's not just yes or no!**


	2. The Alchemist

**A/N: Hey! Guess who's back from the dead!? Yeah! I Think I'll do a little bit of nonsensical plot stuff. Mostly to give you a preview of what the PC's are up against/with. I'm currently writing this on my new tablet/on my desktop. Literally write on my table to. Came with a stylus pen powered by a little AAA battery. Doesn't always read my handwriting yet half the time it does, I'm amazed as all hell. Well, I like to make sure that my tablet is used for other things, as well, and it's so much easier to type on a keyboard than use only one line on the tablet. Anyhow, on with the story!**

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Inside the small mansion (which was more of an oversized house), an older woman from a near-extinct family sat at her desk in her room. On the desk were a multitude of quills, crumpled parchments, a couple of lit candles, and many sticks of sealing wax. Ink stained the desk and crumpled pieces of parchment. The older woman appeared to be in her late 50's to early 80's, her long, black hair showed obvious signs of graying and thinning. He skin pale, tired, and wrinkled, yet appearing otherwise unblemished. She wore what appeared to be a toned-down version of nobleman's clothes. A delicate gold chain hung from her neck displaying a piece of amber with an insect of unknown origin in the setting. On her wrinkled right hand was a signet ring with the symbol of a cracked skull. Sighing in a fully frustrated manner, the woman smoothed out her dress after dropping her quill as she stood.

"Perhaps a walk will do me some good," she sad aloud to no one in particular. Her lightly-embroidered shoes softly tapped on the hard wood floors of her home as she descended the stairs and stride out the door and into the streets. The village was a small, yet quaint place. A few farm plots scattered around with a majority of the small homes belonging to farms. On the opposite side of town -which was easy to see due to the small size- was a general store. Due to her contributions, it held a sizeable amount of goods that even she could benefit from. From sun rods to cattle prods, and from the strongest of cure potions to the most potent of poisons. Very few questioned how this was to be. It was all chalked up to the local rich family's generosity. Grinning, the noblewoman turned towards the north and was about to continue her walk when a voice rang out from an upper floor window.

"Sis'!" Looking up, the noblewoman saw a younger version of herself. Save only that her blouse appeared to be far more durable than hers and her physique far more imposing.

"I'm just going for a walk, Nela, so there's no reason to get concerned over my whereabouts." _I love my sister, I do, though there are times where I wish she could think of something non-destructive to occupy her time with. With destruction comes noise, with noise comes attention unwarranted , and with such attention, plans fall apart._ She couldn't help but think this as her sister crumpled her face in annoyance and retreated back into the house. _I hope she doesn't take it out on our furniture again._

Despite all that was going good with the town, there were still things that screamed of the surrounding country. Lanterns always needing to be lit due to the perpetually dark sky. Occasional undead rising from nearby graveyards, either mass graves, private plots, or ancient battlefields. The bleak landscape that almost seemed always grey, no matter how many flowers the civilians grew. A light breeze fluttered some clothes hanging out to dry as well as pushing around some wooden signs.

The woman continued her walk around town when she finally encountered whom she was looking for. "There you are, Alston," causing a twitchy man to jump from being startled by her raspy voice, "I've been wondering where you've gotten to."

Alston was of average height, yet he was still about one to two heads taller than the older woman, were he not constantly bowed over in terror. He seemed shrunk in on himself and constantly fidgeting with his hands as if nervous about anything and everything. He wore artisan's clothes that used to be a brilliant red, yet had dulled in vibrancy over time, as well as being lightly charred and tattered. His hair was dark, wavy and just so curling over his ears and on the back of his neck, and his eyes were a dull blue, almost grey, and darted all over the place in paranoia. A prominent feature had to be his nose: it was large and hooked. It almost seemed it was broken so many times, he forgot to set it right. What the woman knew about him, she wouldn't be surprised.

"C-could we, uh, perhaps c-continue this in-inside?" Alston weakly gestured to the nearby inn he was lurking by. He knew there was a nice corner in there practically calling his name. So long it wasn't one of the tables. Or chairs.

"Of course, of course, my apologies. I'll secure us a table. I know just the spot." With that, the older woman opened the door and waltzed inside, being sure to temper her stride to ensure Alston would stay with her to a back corner. On her way over there, she shot a knowing look to the bartender. The large, gruff orc merely grunted in response, and returned to cleaning the counter top of the bar. She then walked past the bar, past the stairs to the rooms, and past many of the regular patrons. Eventually, she settled into a chair at a table in the corner, her back facing the room. Alston, whom had been behind her most of the time, quickly shuffled past her and into the seat opposite to her.

"Now, I presume you read my lett-"

"Yes, yes, I read your letter, Miss Xerivo," Alston interrupted, his nervous composure completely melted in her eyes, even though he still looked outwardly terrified to any wandering eyes. "You want me in your little 'club'."

"Now, I wouldn't call it that," Miss Xerivo replied, trying to not dwell on the fact that she was interrupted, "it's more of an, say, experiment. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Alston's eyes had sparked when Miss Xerivo had said "experiment" and it was not lost on her. Alston, however, did not notice that she had. "It sounds interesting, yet what's going to keep me in your little game Miss Xerivo?"

"Zennida, please. Also, I think you may find it fun. After all, who doesn't want to prove to _heroes_ that not all is as it seems more than yourself?" Zennida had pressed this question to Alston. The man's hard eyes tried to find a fault in her body language, her tone, the wording, yet could not find any. Either there was no lie concealed, or she was far too practiced.

"Of course, Zennida. Once again, I thank you for your invitation. However, how do you expect to keep me around is such a mystery..." Alston trailed off. _Seriously? He's trying to play me?_ She could easily see it in anyone's eye. Greed. It was annoying a boring. Sure, she wants power, but not really in a _greed_ sense. More along the lines of _gluttony_. Zennida cooly smiled outwardly as she simply stated, "You have yet to see the laboratory you will be working in."

That clutched it. Alston was all ears and he could not hide the fact that his eyes grew as wide as saucers for about two seconds before they returned to normal size. "N-now, let's not get too brash, here. I'm sure it's decent-"

"Oh, but here's the thing, it's far beyond decent. It's splendid. You could work all you'd like. You can even create your 'cure' there." She was playing him like a harp. _And I'm sure he knows it, which makes this all the more sweeter._

Around that time, the orcish bartender arrived with two dainty tea cups, steaming. "Thank you, Charles. Ever so kind." 'Charles' just grunted a reply and returned to his spot and busied himself with cleaning some pints. "Do drink some. It took me great pains to get this imported without the land trying to taint it," Zennida cooed.

Alston looked warily at the tea cup. Whenever a drink was prepared ahead of time was concerning for him in any and every case. His apprehension seemed overcome, however, as he took the tea cup and saucer and drank heartily. Zennida merely drank her tea, yet couldn't help a smile come to her face.

"What?" Alston did not like her demeanor. "Oh, it's nothing. Just that I can't let you know where we are going," She practically preened at him, self-assurance oozing off of her aura.

"You know I'm immune to poisons? Well, maybe not, but you should now." Alston couldn't help but smile as he polished off his drink.

"Oh. I know." Alston nearly froze when he heard that phrase, particularly when it dripped with cold, calculated, and vicious malice. He then started to look around as his eyes began to haze over and he slowly slumped over onto the table.

"That's why I used a potion, not a poison."

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A cloaked figure paced about, seeming to be impatient. The room was nearly grandiose in size, were it not for the fact that it was cluttered with a multitude of equipment, tools, ingredients, and odd pods seemingly littered about the place. Scalpels, alembics, distillers, empty vials, herbs, mushrooms, assorted teeth, a skull or two, and a multitude of other ingredients and tools were among them. Off to one of the sides there was a staircase that was nearly hidden among the clutter. The darkly-clad figure would occasionally pace by one of the pods, examining the contents. After a while, something within the clutter would groan and shift. It was Alston, sitting in an ornate work chair, waking up from the sleep potion. The figure almost seemed to whip it's head at a near break-neck speed, revealing a grim visage of a gold-bronze colored mask stylized as a skull. Wispy, shoulder-length black hair was visible from underneath the hood it had up. Graveshroud stalked up to her "captive" with purpose. Grinning slyly under her mask, she spoke with a tone in her voice that would give most "normal" folk a chill through their being, "Finally, you've awoken."

Alston seemed to be rigid with terror almost immediately. It was as if a shade had spoken to him, not to mention a horrid cold aura seemed to settle over him at the same time the voice had. "Wh-what? Where am I?"

"Relax, Alston, you aren't here as a captive. Rather, this is the real invitation." Alston only had confusion on his face. "Zennida?" he asked.

She paced a good ten feet from Alston whilst replying, "Ah, glad you pieced it together, however," suddenly she was upon him, a blade glowing with paradoxical black light pressed against his throat that originated from a scythe, "you'd best keep such things to yourself." Alston had to refrain from swallowing his fear physically, as the sharp edge of the blade was so razor thin, he may have been cut at the action. "I'll take that as a mutual understanding." Withdrawing, the man seemed to regain his composure, and his voice. "So, you wanted me to continue my research? To make my 'cure'? You do know what I aim for, correct?"

"What do you take me for, a simpleton?" Graveshroud -currently now known as Zennida- seemed hurt at the question. There was no doubt in her mind what the chemist sought. "Darling, I am your cure personified. Almost." She had turned her head to the side in thought (and perhaps disappointment) at the last word she spoke.

"So, what do you need me for?" Alston seemed to have realized along with his body that he was not restrained in any way, placing his right foot on top of his other knee and folding his hands in front of him resting on top of the chair's armrests.

"It's simple: I let you continue with your work with all that you need here-"

"While you have me prolong your illness?" Alston interrupted.

Zennida paused. An eloquent "What?" escaped her before she could properly process what he had meant. After some time, she finally realized what he was talking about and laughed. "Oh, darling! Oh, goodness, you are so mistaken!" She began to howl in laughter in earnest, perplexing the chemist more than he already was. She walked back up to him and invaded his personal space. In the same movement, she lifted her mask to reveal her face. "I'm already 'cured'."

Alston gasped, though it wasn't in terror or disgust. Rather, he was quite impressed. Zennida's face was quite identical to the tired, wrinkled appearance that he had seen earlier, only rotted and more skeletal. Her actual eyes weren't anywhere to be seen, replaced with unearthly lights in her eye sockets. As she still had some flesh on her, it was apparent that the wispy hair was actually part of her head, not the mask. "You've achieved lichdom,"Alston stated in awe.

"Yes, no easy feat as you know, but I certainly cured myself from the 'Curse of Life', as you call it." The older woman seemed to revel in the chemist's awe, quite proud of herself. She had already strutted back to her spot ten feet away from the man. _This woman is like a peacock, only with lethal talons,_ Alston couldn't help but think. "But how did you drug me?" bringing up the second question he wanted answered.

Behind her mask, Zennida's face fell. She was hoping to just get him to work now. This was wasted time, in her opinion. "It's simple. The orc put a potion of sleep in the tea. He never remembers what's what, so I made sure he prepared both of our teas exactly the same. As you know, I don't need sleep," she stated in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

"Anyways, what was I going to say," Zennida drawled on, "Ah, yes: your new occupation." The chemist seemed to blanch at the statement. "Oh, come now, it's not as horrible as it sounds." She fiddled with some alchemical equipment that lay nearby on a table, taking a sudden interest in it over the current conversation.

"What do you want me to do?" If she wasn't so skilled in reading a person, she would have missed the trepidation in his voice. She put on her winning grin.

"It's simple, I just need you to maintain these pods and refill them when needed. Whenever I need you to work on a project, I'll swing by." Zennida took great pleasure in the unease the Chemist had etched onto his features. Straightening herself, she then strolled to the stairs past a multitude of equipment, and as she passed the doorway, she made sure to meld the stone closed with a quick spell. After all, what Chemist has an extract for Stoneshape?

After a few moments, she heard swearing peppered in with explosions. What, she was going to use cheap stone? Far from it. She strode up the stairs. It was time to find the next "recruit".

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 **AN: And there you have it! It's a big reason why I call her a bit of a b*tch. Truly, I'm a nice person and I hate to see people hurt, but that's why I play video games and write stories: so I have a reality where I can play my Id and I don't have to be nice. I think I'll take a slight break here, but hopefully it won't be *months* before I write again. Until then, I'll see you guys next time!  
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	3. We Will Return Shortly

**AN: Hello, everyone! I actually decided to see whom was following my story and noticed that *gasp* I have a follower! *SQUEEEEEEEEEEE!* Big shout-out to manglor dejavan for giving me what every writer needs to keep on going: Fans! Sure, it's only one, but I flipped and squeed and had to tell my boyfriend about it. He insisted that I keep writing to give my follower something to read. Boy, he didn't need to tell me twice! Anyhow, I'll shut up now and give all my current and future followers something to read!**

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This Chapter has been moved to the previous one for more cohesion and length of chapter. Apologies for the confusion. On another note, a second fan-fic, Another Day at Work, will be uploaded soon, so keep an eye out!

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 **EDIT: So. Um. Anyone want to give me ideas? I wanted to do a few characters prior to recruiting The Demonist. Who is The Demonist? Well, you would have to help me out on my forum and post some villain/hero ideas so I may be able to continue. Please! T_T Please note that A Haunter in Casper High is out and soon another chapter may follow!**


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